


Morning, Glory

by nixwilliams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-19
Updated: 2007-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-22 21:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nixwilliams/pseuds/nixwilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can hear shower noises and Ellen’s little <em>piss off</em> groan before she yells, “What?”</p><p>“Gotta take a leak, comin’ in,” he calls back, and pushes the door open.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning, Glory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gnatkip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnatkip/gifts).



> Gnatkip requested “Ellen/showerhead. Or, Ash wanking to the thought of Ellen/showerhead". Overuse of the word 'fuck'. Originally posted to LJ in February 2007.

Ash rubs his face blearily, forces an eye open to glare at the radio clock. 6:34. Six thirty four in the fucking AM. The fuck?

It takes a minute for his brain to hook up with his ears and for him to notice that the shower’s on across the way. That’s what woke him up. Fuck Ellen and her fucking early mornings.

This ain’t her usual MO, either: she’s a shower-before-bed dame. Even when she does the morning thing, it’s after breakfast and the yoga she likes to pretend she doesn’t need to keep her back good. Not that Ash would notice shit like this if there wasn’t an unwritten agreement that the bathroom was his in the morning now that Jo’s gone.

He needs to piss.

Fucking early morning fuck.

He stumbles out of bed, wrapped in the sheets, falling against the wall, hitting his elbow on the desk, fuck. It’s like his morning-brain still isn’t used to his body being so long, throws his limbs out every which way, hard surfaces and corners be damned. Fucking brain.

He leaves the sheet on the floor, staggers over to the bathroom door and falls against it, knocks hard a few times. He can hear shower noises and Ellen’s little _piss off_ groan before she yells, “What?”

“Gotta take a leak, comin’ in,” he calls back, and pushes the door open.

There’s a thump from behind the shower-curtain, and Ellen hisses out a breath. “Morning, Ash,” she mutters.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, flips the seat back and gets it out. “Don’t look.”

There’s a snort of laughter.

Ash aims and lets rip, god he needed that, hates waking up and having to piss, shouldn’t drink so much water before bed. He sighs, satisfied, shakes the last drips off and tucks himself back in.

“Seat,” Ellen reminds him, like he ever fucking forgot after that one time. _One time_ , goddammit. Will these Harvelle women never let him live anything down? He flicks the seat and the lid closed, and flushes without thinking.

“Shit, Jesus!” yelps Ellen, and there’s more thumping from the shower.

Ash remembers, oh yeah, water pressure, hot. “Sorry.”

Ellen makes an aggravated humming noise in the back of her throat. “You will be, boy. Now if you don’t mind, get the hell out.”

Ash rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath, knowing full well she can hear it.

“What did you say?”

“I said I don’t know what you gotta do that can’t wait another hour,” Ash repeats loudly, leaving out the expletives.

There’s a swish of fabric and the squeak of hooks on the metal curtain rail, and Ellen’s face appears, hair slicked back and eyes glittering. “I’ll give you three guesses, Ash,” she says, her voice careful and dangerous.

He scratches his chest, too tired for this, too early, can’t think, don’t even know what the fucking game is, here. “Whatever, dude.”

“Guess again. Dude.”

Something in her tone makes him look up, catch her eye, notice the flush high on her cheeks. She should wear less makeup. Makes her look fresh and happy, young, like she’s been rolling in the hay.

Like she’s been –

“Aw, shit,” he says, brain-filter not working. “I didn’t need to know that.”

Ellen grins, all teeth, and flicks the curtain closed. “Now get. The hell. Out.”

He doesn’t need telling twice, slams the door on the way back to his room. Fucking early mornings. He tumbles back onto the bed, drags the sheet up and over his legs. Fucking Ellen and her fucking showers. Like he’s gonna be able to sleep now.

He shoves his hand down his shorts. Fucking morning glory.


End file.
